Old Blood Noise Endeavors Dark Star Novels & Stories

Stars dance all around us, woven together by threads made of mist and starlight that twinkle overhead, suspended in mid-air. He touches me, his hand smoothing up my arm to my shoulder, then my neck, until he caresses my cheek. I close my eyes as the heavens fade and are replaced by… a vision. A memory, something I’m witnessing through his perspective. Blake, as a boy of maybe fourteen, hurrying into a shoe-box sized dorm room and promptly throws up blood while it drips from his nose and ears. Blake, standing in front of a massive orrery in Moonrise, fighting for his life to stay upright while voices scream through his head, and a woman in white whispers in his ears to listen, but I don’t kno

Emberly whispers looking around then she points to the dark spot at the back of her mind, it’s seems to be where the darkness was coming from “That’s where the voices lay, can you stop them?“ She asks, I shrug my shoulders “Lead the way, I’ll definitely try” We walk towards the darkness, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about what I was walking into but I was, they had driven her crazy, could they drive me crazy too? Every step I take a ticking noise gets louder and louder, slowly building until it’s almost unbearable, the walls move with the noise, it almost made me nauseous

Old Al laughed and looked affectionately at Bianca: "A worthy Luna... Good. Close your eyes, Bianca." The Frenchwoman obeyed him. Immediately, Old Al began to chant an ancient song. Black clouds covered the sky and surrounded the moon. The clearing seemed to be in total darkness, and the moonlight illuminated only the bodies of Bianca and Black. The wind picked up with more force, carrying ancient voices from another time in its wake. The sounds of drums were heard, causing the wolves to worry as they saw no one else from outside the pack in the clearing. Then, suddenly, nothing.

A horrible growling sound echoed around the forest. Rogues.

The woman blows the horn. The sound is like a corrupted roar from an old-world lion that has its vocal cords augmented to sound like a coming death. For death is what comes. The beast rides from the coming darkness and pulls a more rustic-looking caravan whereas the Jakalorn's vehicle is more updated. There are only two carts that are being pulled by plague-riddled rhinos. Their skin is black, and the insides are hollowed out as if a butcher carved them in twine but still their exposed hearts beat and with each rhythmic pulse of ambiance, their red veins pump with life. The first cart is an old wooden carriage that wobbles and creeks when being pulled. The other cart connected to it is a rus

Fresh blood dripped onto the asphalt, mixing with rainwater and leaking engine oil. “You think you can drag me back into your world with blood, Leonard?” Dante hissed into the darkness beneath the bridge. The distant wail of ambulance sirens began to rise, but to Dante, they sounded like Leonard’s low, mocking laughter echoing through the night. The silence of Alaska had shattered—replaced by the opening notes of a new symphony of violence.

The darkness pauses. Considering. “Yes.” The answer is simple. “But it will also be more.” The fragment of shadow reaches us. Dylan’s grip tightens on my hand. The warmth inside me surges violently. Light and darkness meet again— But this time, there is no explosion. No shockwave. Just fusion. A deep hum spreads through the plane. The cracks beneath our feet stop widening. The watchers freeze. The ancient voice speaks one final sentence. “It begins.” The sky above us shifts completely.

♠️ ETHAN ♠️ The warehouse smelled like rust and damp concrete, old oil, and now, the sharp tang of blood. We’d dragged Brandon to one of Dre’s safe spots on the outskirts of the city—a forgotten industrial shell where screams didn’t echo far. He was tied to a metal chair in the center, wrists raw from the zip ties, head lolling from the punch I’d given him earlier. Dre flipped on the single hanging bulb, casting harsh shadows across Brandon’s face. He stirred, groaning, eyes fluttering open to the nightmare.

Donald looks at Alistair who nods, and then he’s drawing new symbols, chanting in that language that makes my teeth ache. The last thing I see before the darkness takes me is the children glowing brighter than the sun. And then everything is light and pain and the sound of something ancient screaming.

My home was dark, the silence heavy as I poured a glass of whiskey, the burn grounding me. I grabbed a calendar from the counter, my eyes locking on tomorrow’s date, circled in red—the Blood Moon. The frat party. The night they’d try to kill her. My vision flashed again—her heart torn out, blood pooling under that cursed moon. I downed the whiskey, my hand shaking as I set the glass down.